Oblivisci me , non
by ravenclawrocker
Summary: Draco Malfoys walls are falling down and there's nobody there to help him put them back together again. A short Drarry Battle of Hogwarts story c:


this isn't what I usually write but I submitted a variation of it for my English coursework and I thought I'd share it with you all c: Please leave me some reviews and I'll write more!

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><p>Oblivisci me, non<p>

All eyes have turned to me and the blank stares are burning through my skull. He is calling for me. An act of false affection to try to show that the Dark Lord is still capable of human emotions. He never will be. My eyes are far from the crowds judging glares and locked on the boy who lived. The boy that had once held me in his arms lies lifeless like a ragdoll in Hagrid's; I fear he may drop him as I can see his arms quiver.

A glance in the hallway and a brush of the arm is usually all the contact we have, and our encounters are hesitant and short. We are forbidden from being in the same room as each other let alone breathe the same air. Nobody knows, and I guess the secret will die with us when the Dark Lord defeats him and….I guess I really won't be able to live without him. His coal coloured hair, always messy and always out of place, the way he played with his wand between his fingertips when he was bored in potions class, and most importantly the way he held me and told me that when this was all over we could have a life of our own. A life away from our families and the Dark Lords presence. A life that seems so unreachable now.

Our last moments were mere hours ago and yet those hours feel like a lifetime. The room of the requirement was silent. I was standing in the arched doorway alone, my tailored suit unscathed and unknowing that the battle about to ensue would destroy it. He was sitting alone in an armchair, with a thin layer of dust coating his clothing and hair. I coughed lightly. Harry leapt up and held me by my collar, a mix of anger and fear in his eyes. After realising who it was, he relaxed slightly but did not let me go.

"Draco what the fuck?" His breath was hot on my skin

"I just came to say good luck Harry"

"Good luck eh? You should probably be saying goodbye…"

We just stood there, not talking or touching or kissing or anything. We read each other's faces. I couldn't bear to stare into his eyes anymore, they were too full of pain. He was about to walk to his death like cattle to the slaughterhouse. Of course he was going to put up a fight and he would not go down easy, but his death just seems inevitable. He has fought too hard. I tried so hard not to cry, how could I cry when he was about to go to die and I will most likely survive the war? After a seemingly endless silence he hugged me. His arms kept me safe and he was my world and now my world was breaking into a million pieces and I don't know what to do. His lips brushed against my own and hesitated. We stood like that for a moment, just enjoying each other's warmth and trying not to cry. Harry let me go, dusted off my suit, and left me standing alone in the four walled barricade.

Harry Potter is braver than I ever will be. I am a pathetic puddle in comparison to him. He survived the Dark Lords killing curse when he was a baby and became famous throughout the wizarding world. I was brought up to despise him, to see him as the enemy, and to befriend him to gain his trust and betray him to the Dark Lord. It would have made my family respected once more, my father told me. I hate my father. I hate the things he makes me do and I hate the way he puts me down. To him I am nothing more than a pawn to play in this game of good versus evil, but I don't think he knows which side were on. If I show any side of weakness he discards me as a failure and sends me crying to my mother. She calls me her brave boy, but I'm not brave. Brave men decide what they stand for, and weak men follow the crowd.

Harry's body still does not stir and the Dark Lord's eyes are still fixed on my flushed face. I am breathing so heavily that I fear everyone can hear my heartbeat. My feet begin to move as I hesitantly walk towards him. His skeletal arms are reaching out to me to pull me into a cold embrace, so cold in fact that I can feel my tears turn to ice before they hit my cheek.

Before I can even take a breath the crowd has done it for me. Harry has leaped from Hagrids arms and is confronting Voldemort. The Death Eaters have taken out their wands and are pointing them at the broken 17 year old boy standing in front of them. He is defenceless, his words his only weapon. I'm staring out to him through the masses of crowd on the front line; I desperately try to meet his gaze and let him know I believe in him. As the chaos ensues, I know this is the end.


End file.
